


After End

by crackleviolet



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Wedding Fluff, we were ROBBED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 14:45:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17851565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackleviolet/pseuds/crackleviolet
Summary: AU where Jihyun got the after end he (and his fans) actually deserved





	After End

**V x MC | Gen | FIXIT FIC | I left in the bits I liked. All two (?) of them.**

* * *

 

_MC’s wedding dress was as white as a snowflake and as soft to the touch as a summer breeze. She turned to admire her reflection in the mirror-once and then twice, touching her fingers to her hair._

For the first, and likely only, time in her life, she was wearing a tiara; made of silver and engraved with clear stones. It was cool to the touch but warmed her heart, a reminder that the day was hers.

Half hers, at least. She wondered how Jihyun fared in his room-if he was as excited and nervous as she was. If she closed her eyes, she could practically see him, only partially paying attention to Jumin’s well wishes and advice for the day as he fastened his tie.

She opened her dresser drawer and unfolded the letter within, rereading the vows she had spent months drafting and amending in the run up to the big day. There were so many things she wanted to tell him; so many promises she wanted to make. She knew she would not have the luxury of reciting them all, but narrowing them down was easier said than done.

Someone knocked at the door and she folded the paper again, slipping it back into her drawer without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t a secret, but it was slightly embarrassing.

“Come in!”

It was Jumin, dressed in a carefully tailored suit and flowers pinned to his lapel. He gave her a soft smile as he entered, so small and subtle that only those who knew him well enough might see the warmth behind it.

“Congratulations,” he said, taking in her dress and curious expression. “I’ve got something for you.”

MC wasn’t sure what else he could possibly have for her. He had already offered up the use of the grandest of his vacation homes for the nuptials.

The item in his hands was perhaps the last thing she might have expected: a single use camera, typical of her childhood, though rather unusual of late. MC turned it over in her hands, remembering the seemingly endless summers of her childhood, snapping photograph after photograph of her friends and family and waiting eagerly to see the results. She held the camera to her chest, considering how typical such a detail was of both her fiance and his best man. Her wedding might last days or even weeks depending on how long it took to gather and develop the film.

The first photo she took was of Jumin standing a few paces from the doorway as the Chois arrived with a handful of bridesmaids. The second was of Seven in his three piece suit, pretending to toss her bouquet over his shoulder, while Saeran watched in horror.

Seven made no secret of the fact that he wanted to be MC’s maid of honour, winking theatrically at the tradition of running away with the best man. Jumin flatly refused the idea and, even though everyone else found the mental image amusing, MC compromised and asked him to walk her down the aisle instead. Both twins, actually, would be giving her away. She laughed and joked that it was to stop her from escaping, but in truth she wanted them close now of all days.

It had been years since her arrival at the Mint Eye castle and everyone had changed, mostly for the better. Seven no longer worked for the agency, instead putting his skills to use at C&R, a gesture of goodwill from Jumin that has provided near constant entertainment since. When Seven wasn’t playing pranks on his boss, he was enabling his love for cat projects, much to Assistant Kang’s ire. MC wasn’t sure which was worse for Jaehee’s health: trying and failing to prevent Seven from filling Jumin’s desk with party poppers or the knowledge that even after everything, his diet was almost entirely chips and soda.

Saeran was hospitalised for almost a full year after the incident, slowly progressing from withdrawal to psychotherapy. No one could say for certain exactly how much elixir had poisoned his body, only that he spent months shivering and sweating, racked by nightmares and sick to his stomach.

The change she was proudest of came from Yoosung. He had grown so much in the past couple of years, barely recognisable as the boy she chatted to all those years ago. He was taller. Happier. He balanced psychiatric studies with volunteer efforts and fundraisers; a regular at counselling groups for the survivors of Mint Eye and their biggest advocate during their integration back into society.

He, as well as Zen, were the ushers at her wedding and both swelled with pride when they saw her approach.

“Ahhh, here comes the bride.”

“Congratulations, MC!”

“Has everything gone to plan so far?”

“Ehh, a few paparazzi here and there. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Did…he show up yet?”

She didn’t say his name, but everyone knew who she meant.

She and Jihyun spent hours on their wedding invitations, creating each by hand. They attached lace and ribbons in the style of a wedding dress; wrote each name in careful calligraphy-no two identical, but each one perfect.

Neither Jihyun’s father nor his stepmother had responded to their invitation; something Jihyun himself claimed was for the better. Pursuing an art career had left them more distant than ever, leaving only his sister to acknowledge him as family. She replied within a matter of hours, young enough to be more excited about the occasion than any bad feelings.

She was a bridesmaid, in fact; willowy and cheerful in her pale pink gown. MC wanted to include her somehow, in return for her maturity and understanding over the past few years. Her gentle nature, in fact, was the reason MC whispered the question.

“Not yet,” said Zen, with a sympathetic touch to her shoulder. “But there’s time yet!”

MC sighed, conflicted in her emotions; closing her eyes to take in the momentary silence while realisation slowly sank in. This was it. Soon she and Jihyun would no longer be engaged but man and wife.

For the briefest of seconds, she found herself anxious, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Jihyun had been broken in so many different ways…what if she hurt him in several more? What if he fell out of love with her the moment she threw her bouquet?

MC took a deep breath, glancing down at the flowers in her arms: sweet peas, pale pink and shaped like butterflies; lily of the valley, as ornate as a pearl necklace; pink peonies, as soft as kisses. Saeran put them together for her; his love for flowers one of the only constants over the past few years. Last night he stayed in his room to arrange every ribbon.

They were as comforting as a lover’s embrace and MC let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, just in time for violin music to ring out from beyond the closed doors.

She watched as Yoosung and Zen pulled them open, revealing a garden illuminated by fairy lights.

“Wow,” she whispered, unsure where exactly to look. There was something new in every corner, from friends and family watching her expectantly to Jumin and V standing under a floral canopy that matched her bouquet. Jihyun had his back to her and stood up so straight that she could tell he was nervous. Jumin stole glances every now and then, smiling and whispering in Jihyun’s ear.

She noticed the record player last of all, as she took her first steps down the aisle. It was Jihyun’s idea to have a band, but Jumin’s to play a recording, speaking aloud the ideas that Jihyun never would. It was not just any musician; not just any song. It was a song by Pachelbel performed by a dead violinist; one who set aside her music books in unfortunate circumstances.

Her seat was in the frontmost row, with two white roses resting against the frame.

A gentle breeze caught MC’s hair as she reached Jihyun, scattering flower petals across the green. Seven and Saeran loosened their grip on her arms and she turned to her fiancé for the first time all day, stomach fluttering in anticipation.

He had flowers on his lapel just like Jumin’s, matching her bouquet and complimenting his light suit. He flushed the same shade of pink when he saw her, never once looking away even as the record player fell silent.

The rest of the ceremony passed by in a blur. Seven shed several tears as they exchanged vows, completely serious for the first time all day. MC stumbled over the words, love seeping into her voice as she professed her feelings in almost unadulterated detail.

His vows were not only original but the words of a poet. He told not only MC but everyone present how long he had searched for love before her; how dark and lonely the years had been. He once believed that true love would be a masterpiece, and in many respects that was true, but he had not been able to not experience it fully until he found his own colours.

MC, he explained, was full of colours. More colours than he would ever know the names of, much less put to paper. His world was monochrome when he met her; she leaves sunsets and soft light wherever she goes. If he was beautiful now it was her doing.

Their hands trembled as he slipped a ring onto her finger; the room falling silent with the exception of camera clicks. MC could not tear her eyes away from their joined hands and never wanted to. She never wanted to let go ever again.

The spell was broken when they were pronounced man and wife; MC returning to reality as if crawling out of a comfortable slumber. No one had to tell Jihyun he could kiss the bride-his lips were on hers the moment he heard the word ‘wife’.

He took her hand as they turned for photos, whispering both sweet words and obscenities in her ear.

She blushed, eyes darting around the garden and finally resting on the unexpected guest standing at a distance, a white envelope in his hand.

He was far away, but recognizable enough for anyone who knew him. V’s sister certainly did, gathering her skirts and rushing to greet him with an enormous smile on her face. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the other guests, eager for him get a photo with his brand new daughter in law.

Jihyun clearly wasn’t expecting his father to attend and MC wondered if Chief Kim had ever expected to come. They both looked like ducks out of water as they stood side by side for photographs.

She still wondered about it as she tossed her bouquet, watching it sail through the air and land quite neatly in Jaehee’s arms. It took her a moment to fully register what was happening, but she was swift to elbow Seven in the ribs when she realised he was standing next to her fluttering his eyelashes.

It was a day MC hoped to never forget-from champagne bubbles on her tongue to their first dance as husband and wife.

She does not forget, of course. No one could forget such a perfect day and she has it immortalised in seven different albums, containing each and every photograph from every roll of film. From Zen posing for a selfie at the dinner table to Jumin giving his best man speech to Saeran sitting by the flowerbeds to feed confetti to the birds. Every detail is immortalised, with only one exception.

At the end of the evening, almost every single disposable camera was full, save for mystery camera with exactly one photograph left on the film. At first she was eager to take a photograph of just about anything just to finish off the film, only to change her mind at the realisation that doing so would truly end her wedding day. She was glad of the extra time each roll of film afforded her, but the prospect of being a bride forever was far more attractive than knowing what was on the film.

She positioned that camera pride of place in their front room, underneath her wedding bouquet, which Jihyun pressed and fitted into a frame. It serves as a reminder that every day is her wedding day; each morning is a fresh start and new beginning for their love.

She never intends to develop it, never caves to curiosity and ultimately only reaches for it when several years have passed.

“She’s here!” Jihyun says, running his fingers through his hair and taking one step towards the front door, only to change his mind and double back. “What should I say?”

She hasn’t seen him this nervous since the day she married him.

“Well…you could start with ‘hello’.”

“Good idea!”

MC gives the room a final onceover, listening to his excited, albeit stuttered greeting when he opens up the front door.

“Come in, come in!”

She moves to join him, stepping out into the hallway to greet their guests.

Jihyun is still shaking the social worker’s hand when she gets there, and they look only too relieved when he awkwardly lets go.

The woman is an acquaintance of Yoosung’s, who regularly gives lectures on vulnerable children. The orphanages she works with have benefited from multiple VFA fundraisers, in part because of their tactical approach. They bring an orphaned child to every party, appealing to the sympathies of other guests and very often securing not only funding but permanent homes for abandoned children, just like the one standing in front of them today.

Her name is Lucy, or so MC was told, and has been in and out of foster care from birth. Both Jihyun and MC expressed surprise at such a detail, for Lucy is quite a beautiful child, not unlike a porcelain doll. It all became clear, however, when they actually spoke to her. Lucy did not speak her name-she signed it.

Along with painting, Jihyun had studied sign language, in part because he had never done so to communicate with his mother. MC wasn’t sure who was more excited to speak; Lucy, whose signs bordered on frantic, or Jihyun, who struggled to translate at times because he needed to give her one hundred percent of his attention. He told her terrible jokes; she told him he was handsome. Later they learned that she suffered mumps as an infant, which left her hard of hearing at first and later entirely deaf.

Today MC sits onto her knees and clumsily signs a greeting. She’s not nearly as fluent as Jihyun, but more than willing to try.

_My name is MC. I’m going to be your Mother._

She knows for a fact she probably signed it wrong, but Lucy is more than excited, reaching to loop her arms around MC’s neck and pulling her into the warmest of hugs.

It was MC who suggested they adopt her. Having children had always seemed like a far off dream, but Lucy crossed their paths ready made and perfect, leaving MC unable to think of anything else but feeding her ice cream and signing her goodnight.

Once again she is reminded of warm summer childhoods; of excitement and wonder. She can see it in Lucy’s eyes as they sign the final papers, unapologetically examining each and every inch of their home.

No.

_Her home._

Before long it is just the three of them; Jihyun showing Lucy to her room, laughing all the while at her excitement over each and every toy they picked up for her. She has a paint set from Jaehee, multiple leather bound encyclopedias from Jumin, a DVD of one of Zen’s performances that Jihyun slipped into a cupboard and never saw the light of day again, an enormous teddy bear from Yoosung.

Of all of the gifts, however, she makes a beeline for the tablet left by her uncle Luciel.

“Ahh, now, Lucy…wouldn’t you rather play with this?”

Jihyun picks up a copy of  _The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe_  and Lucy shakes her head.

MC watches them from the doorway, turning that final disposable camera in her hands, just like she did on her wedding day. She lifts the camera to take the final picture, laughing at her husband’s incredible old fashioned-ness and Lucy’s excitement at whatever game Luciel created and installed on the tablet. From the looks of things, it’s a rhythm game, with piano keys and bright lights to show which one to press and when. MC can tell that before long she’ll not only be walking all over Jihyun but the whole of the VFA.

Her husband is barely recognizable from the one that called her upon her entrance to the VFA, voice quivering and spirit broken. She no longer sees herself in the woman who rested her head on his lap while he struggled through poison.

She recalls V’s words on the day of their wedding- that if he is beautiful it is because of her, considering that it is only half true. The three of them are butterflies, bursting out of their chrysalises to bathe in the sunlight.

The camera snaps and MC takes the final photo.


End file.
